


Between the Pages of Books and Memories

by VidalinaV



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, F/M, Nessian - Freeform, nessian fluff, smol nessian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 10:26:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14892870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VidalinaV/pseuds/VidalinaV
Summary: The fourth wish comes out of nowhere. He feels guilty for even thinking of another one, as if he is bottling shooting stars and storing them under his bed. He starts to feel like some greedy troll hiding trinkets and hoarding wishes. He could not be the only one who needed something.But the fourth wish persists. Persists like the fists of a tiny girl and a sandwich she chooses to share with him. It is ham and cheese.Childhood Best Friends AU (All human)





	Between the Pages of Books and Memories

Being the knight in shining armor is a nice job to have. It is nice to save the princess; it is nice to gain a castle; it is nice to be the one everyone loves. But when Cassian imagines himself in the stories his mother tells him, he is not the brave knight who rescues damsels. He is not the prince who sets the world aflame.

When his mother wakes up coughing, spewing blood from her lips, and his father only turns the TV louder, he wishes there is a fairy godmother for children like him. He wishes he could rub one of the old vases, filled with dust and fake hydrangeas, and some genie would appear in his living room. Offering him a friend and three wishes.

Cassian knows exactly what he’d wish for.

One. When his mother asks him to hold her hand as she pukes in the polished porcelain bowl, he wishes for his mother to feel better. That cancer didn’t exist, that sickness never robbed anyone of their health and their livelihood.

Two. When he hears the bottles smashing against the wall and his mother holds him close, captive in the closet like stolen treasure, he wishes for his father to disappear. Wishes he could exist in a world where mean, cruel fathers didn’t.

Three. When his stomach growls in class and his teacher announces snack time and his classmates scramble to get the colorful cookies and treats their parents have packed them, he wishes there was food in the pantry. That maybe he could bring something that would make him feel a little less alone and a little less hungry.

But, it is asking too much, it is asking for a miracle. And only princesses get wishes, only princesses get miracles.

So, when he imagines himself in his mother’s stories, he is the one trapped in a tower, he is the one who grows the long hair. Because if he a princess, someone will rescue him. Cassian wants to be rescued more than a beast wants love… or a thief, riches… or a prince wants to find the owner of a shoe.

He is in the third grade when someone does.

The fourth wish comes out of nowhere. He feels guilty for even thinking of another one, as if he is bottling shooting stars and storing them under his bed. He starts to feel like some greedy troll hiding trinkets and hoarding wishes. He could not be the only one who needed something.

But the fourth wish persists. Persists like the fists of a tiny girl and a sandwich she chooses to share with him. It is ham and cheese.

He is sitting outside, with his pale, blue lunchbox that has turned the shade of robin’s egg he discovered between moist dirt and wood chips. He pulls out his sandwich, wrapped in cellophane, and a boy, in the fifth-grade rips it out of his hands.

 “Hey that’s my sandwich.” Cassian yells, anger welling up inside of him. He is bigger than the kid and still the boy waves the sandwich in front of his face, dangling it like a carrot on a string.

“It’s only a sandwich.” The kid nags. It is his _only_ sandwich _._ Cassian doesn’t want to think about how long it’ll be before his next meal. But, before he can even get another word past his lips, a girl in his class barrels forward. A bulldozer ready to crash.

She is new, her name is Nesta. She has two sisters and a cat. She likes gummy worms, but only the blue and pink ones. Her parents pack her carrots and apple slices for snack time. She comes bearing furrowed brows, a red lunchbox, and tiny hands curled in fists.

Nesta is small, and even if he is the tallest kid in his grade, the top of her head barely reaches his eyes. His gaze widens as she stomps her feet indignantly in front of the fifth-grader, as if she is not afraid of him stealing her lunch.

“He said that was his sandwich.” She speaks, voice with authority and fury and thunder. Like she commands it by the very nature of her being.

The boy has the audacity to laugh, and even he is afraid. Not of the thief disguised as a kid with orange hair, but of the girl with the snarling lip.

“He said that was his sandwich.” She continues persistently, as if it is fact and he is a fairy king who has made a ruling and must be obeyed.

The kid merely shrugs and takes a bite of the bologna on rye, staring into her eyes as he chews with his mouth wide open. The anger bursts inside of him unlike the fireworks at the beach, on the fourth of July, when his mother was healthy, and his father wasn’t a drunk. Erupts like the volcano they had made last Tuesday. In bursts of vinegar, baking soda, and red dye.

She pushes the boy and his sandwich falls to the ground. The kid stares up at her, his cheeks turning the color of her lunch box, surprised by the force and her strength. Perhaps, she was born with superpowers.  The tears streak his face, and for a moment Cassian feels bad for the boy on the ground.

He stands up and she nearly lurches for him again, but he runs off wiping his eyes with the back of his hands, telling the teacher no doubt of the little girl who shoved him. Even Cassian didn’t know if he’d believe him.

Except, one look at her triumphant face made the doubt dissipate. It was the face of someone who won. A soldier who saved China. She kneels to examine the food, presumes it dead, and walks to the picnic table where Cassian had been sitting. Her lunchbox gleams as she opens it.

“It’s a good thing my mom packed me extra lunch today.”

She looks up at him, bright eyes, and a wide smile. She holds out half for him. He is floored and does not move, so she places a napkin on the opposite side and lays down the sandwich. She peruses the rest of her lunch and continues to divide everything in half, holding nothing hostage in the confines of her lunch box.

Finally, he sits across from her, and he looks down at the apple slices, and the goldfish, and the cookies with m&ms, at the abundance of food and breathes, making no wish to move from this place or time.

“My name is Nesta, what’s your name?”

His fourth wish is a good one. It is easy, attainable, and does not require any miracles say that of him being kind and happy and amiable. He wishes to be her friend.

“My name is Cassian. Thank you for saving me.” She laughs at his words and takes a bite.

The sandwich is the best he’s ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think and if I should continue! Thanks for reading!


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